


a discovery in the garden

by Magnolia822



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Dubious Consent, First Time, He/Him Pronouns For Aziraphale (Good Omens), He/Him Pronouns For Crowley (Good Omens), Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Other, Scene: Garden of Eden (Good Omens), Sex Pollen, Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:40:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29906070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnolia822/pseuds/Magnolia822
Summary: Aziraphale finds a special flower in the garden. Then Crawly finds him.Written for my Good Omens Bingo 2021 square, 'aphrodisiac.'This fic is sex pollen-themed, just in case it wasn't clear from the tags!
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 126
Collections: Good Omens Bingo 2021, Top Aziraphale Recs





	a discovery in the garden

On the day after Adam and Eve are banished from the Garden, Aziraphale thinks that maybe the time to leave has come. He no longer has the flaming sword to guard the place, after all, and when it comes down to it, the humans are the ones who need looking after. So, he reconciles himself to following them, wherever they’ve gone off to. He’ll have to keep his distance of course, but it’s clear now that his future lies beyond the walls. 

He decides to take one last look around before leaving, for he has a feeling that once he goes, he’ll never find his way back. 

The afternoon is calm, with a blue sky and a gentle breeze, and Aziraphale takes his time, walking along the stream that runs through the center of it all, passing all manner of beautiful flowers, which he stops and smells, each one more pleasant and fragrant than the last. There is a curious, bright blue flower growing on the bank that he has never noticed before, with many blooms on each stem, forming a pretty round shape. He plucks one and brings it to his nose, inhaling the scent and sneezing as he gets a bit of the pollen, too. Feeling a little whimsical, and knowing he is all alone, he tucks the flower behind his ear.

He wonders where the serpent is - Crawly. Not a very nice name, but Crawly himself is nothing at all like what a demon should be. Aziraphale thinks about his lovely red hair and his unusual eyes as he continues on his way, finally coming to a shaded glen. He looks up at the sun filtering down through the trees and feels the breeze against his skin, and decides to sit and rest. 

Crawly had offered him some comfort. He had accepted Aziraphale’s wing to shelter from the rain. It had been nice, standing closely next to the demon upon the wall, even in spite of the circumstances. Aziraphale feels strangely content remembering how they had talked about what they had been doing since they both arrived in Eden. Crawly spoke with wonder about the plants and animals, and it sounded like he had even been fond of the humans, too, though he hadn’t quite said it out loud. 

Aziraphale yawns and puts his hands behind his head, looking up at the tree branches waving overhead. Sleeping is not something he’s ever tried, but Adam and Eve seemed to like it well enough, and so he closes his eyes and lets it wash over him, and soon he is dreaming. 

The demon comes to him half-man, half snake, all flaming hair and long limbs and a twisty, sinewy tail. Instead of being terrified, Aziraphale welcomes him into his arms, and before long they are tangling on the ground, not quite fighting, the demon’s long tail wrapped around him. They writhe together, and Aziraphale is searching, searching for something - he strains towards it, not knowing how to reach it, knowing he must —

He wakes up gasping, hot and sticky, and stares down in fascination at his robe, which is stained with wetness. There is a bulge between his legs, still throbbing with pleasure, and Aziraphale gasps as he touches it, feeling the warm flesh begin to harden again under his fingers. His hand comes away wet, and he brings his fingertips to his lips curiously. The dream he’d been having slips away as he comes more awake, and he finally realises with a shock that he’s manifested one of the sexual parts, the one that Adam wore. 

The part is aching, fully hard now, and Aziraphale bunches up his robes to get a good look at it. He finds he likes the way it looks. He likes it a good deal, and he likes touching it even more. He reaches to wrap his hand around it and pleasure shoots through his body, urging him to do it again. He does it again, and again, and soon he is stroking the part vigorously, the heat and tension building and building until, from out of the hole at the very tip of it, seed erupts. It wets his hand and ecstasy washes over him, leaving him trembling as it ebbs. 

He stares dazedly, not really seeing. Is this the pleasure that Adam and Eve experienced together? No wonder they were always touching their parts together. He wonders if Crawly has a human part like Adam or Eve, or if he is more like a snake - and that thought brings back remnants of his dream. He shudders, not quite able to drag his hand away from where he is still holding his softening part. It feels sated and sensitive now, but he knows it would only take a couple of strokes to get it hard again. 

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he worries that maybe he is not doing the right thing, and that is when the little flower falls from behind his ear onto his shoulder. Aziraphale gasps. He remembers inhaling its scent - could the flower have somehow driven him to this - to these feelings? 

He closes his eyes and breathes, trying to control the urges. His part feels tingly again, and even in spite of his misgivings he begins to stroke it, his toes curling into the soft moss and earth underneath him. In his mind’s eye, Crawly appears, and he thinks about what it would be like if they were together, if it were Crawly touching him. 

“Crawly,” he whispers. “Oh, Crawly, yes.” 

“Angel?” 

The voice sounds so real. Aziraphale bites his lower lip and fists himself harder, imagining what it would be like for Crawly to — for Crawly to kiss it—

A sharp intake of breath finally breaks through his reverie. Aziraphale’s eyes flash open, and he realises that the demon is here, watching him - not three feet away. 

He is in his human form, his long black robes billowing around his body, as the wind has picked up. Aziraphale moves to cover himself, but Crawly shakes his head, “no, no, no, you’re beautiful. Please let me watch you.” 

“It’s wrong,” Aziraphale says, sounding wretched. “You’re a demon. I shouldn’t.” 

“I’m not going to tell anyone. How long have you been here, doing that to yourself?” 

“I don’t know. I . . . there was a flower. The pollen—” He gestures with his free hand at the flower, which is by now on the ground, wilted and crushed. 

“You’ve been messing about with yourself because of a flower?” Crawly picks it up curiously and squints at it. 

Aziraphale feels his face heat. “I think so. It . . .” He trailed off, remembering his dream. He can’t tell Crawly about his dream, of course not. 

“What does it feel like?” Crawly drops the flower. 

“It’s good.” Aziraphale can’t stop stroking himself. For all the disturbance, his part is still very hard and needy. It’s all the fault of the flower – it can’t be helped. “You haven’t done it?” 

Crawly shakes his head, looking avidly as Aziraphale works himself. “Never thought about it. Didn’t know we could change ourselves down there to look like them - like the humans.” 

“I don’t know how I did it, but . . . yes, I think you can.” 

Crawly sits down next to him, not quite close enough to touch. “Watching you do that makes me . . . it makes me burn. It makes me . . . want to take your part inside.” 

“Really?” Aziraphale licks his lips. “You’d really want to?” 

“Yeah. I mean . . . if you do.” 

“Please.” 

Crawly looks to be concentrating. He is silent for a few seconds, and then a smile breaks over his face. “I think I’ve done it. Made a part for myself.” Crawly sounds excited, his voice pitching higher. He lifts his robes and Aziraphale can see there is hair between his legs, and something pink and inviting that looks like what Eve had. Crawly reaches between his legs and his mouth drops open. “It’s wet. I think there’s . . . yes. It’s the right one.” He seems to be searching with his fingers. “Oh, that feels good.” 

There is a slippery sound, and Aziraphale feels his body tighten. He can see Crawly’s fingers slip into his body, and there is a musky, inviting scent in the air. With some difficulty, Aziraphale drags his hand away from his own flesh. 

“Can we? Please?” Crawly is nearly panting. “What if I sit on you?” 

“Yes,” Aziraphale says without thinking, and then the demon is straddling him and sinking down onto his hardness. The warm, wet heat is more than he can take. His climax overwhelms him almost immediately, and he spurts deeply into Crawly’s body, thrusting up with his hips. 

Crawly isn’t finished. He rocks on him, back and forth, eyes filled with wonder, until finally Aziraphale feels something flutter, like butterflies, and Crawly moans quietly. “Oh!” 

Aziraphale has hardly gone soft at all, and Crawly doesn’t seem to want to stop, and so after a little bit of rearranging, Aziraphale finds himself behind Crawly, holding onto his hips and thrusting into him. Crawly is naked, his hair spilling down his back, and pushing onto Aziraphale with his hips. This must be some sort of madness overtaking them both. Perhaps simply touching the flower, as Crawly had, is enough to create this unquenchable urge. Even as Aziraphale nears his completion again, he finds himself not wanting it to end. He will never get enough of feeling Crawly around him, of hearing the demon’s moans and seeing his body arch with ecstasy. 

He moves the cloth of his robes out of the way so he can see what is happening, how his thick part spears into Crawly, how Crawly welcomes him. He pulls out until he is almost completely withdrawn, and then enters again, filling Crawly to the hilt. Crawly opens so beautifully, and Aziraphale touches the place where they are joined curiously, then lower, to where Crowley is swollen like the petals of a flower. Crawly seems to like that, and so Aziraphale keeps doing it, rubbing until he finds a place that makes Crawly groan. 

Crawly shakes, and Aziraphale keeps going. The flutters and ripples happen; that is his climax, Aziraphale realises, the type of release that happens to a person with such a part. The thought is enough to tip him over the edge, and he shudders and thrusts deeply, giving Crawly more of his seed. 

And then something occurs to him. 

“Crawly,” he says, “I cannot . . . get you with child?” He is still thrusting gently through his slippery release. 

“Nah. I don’t think so. We’re not human.” 

“All right. If you’re certain.” 

His part softens and slips from Crawly’s part. There is a good deal of mess, which he quickly miracles away. Crawly looks over his shoulder, his face flushed. He looks pleased, however, which makes Aziraphale feel a little proud. 

“Hey, angel. I wouldn’t mind going one more time.” 

They do it again, this time with Aziraphale on top of Crawly, face to face. This way, they can see into each other’s eyes, and Aziraphale finds himself lost in the golden yellow, pumping his hips as Crawly holds onto him, long legs wrapped around his waist. He wants to kiss Crawly, but he isn’t sure that is allowed. His whole body is exhausted, but he wants to give Crawly this one last thing, and they move together like that, less frantically, but still enjoying every moment. Crawly reaches up and strokes his cheek, and there is a strange ache inside Aziraphale’s chest. He leans down and brushes their lips together, and Crawly clutches him closer. They both find their release like that, kissing slowly as their bodies join. 

After, Aziraphale collapses next to Crawly, boneless and utterly content. The very strange idea of holding Crawly’s hand occurs to him, but he pushes it away. “I was going to leave the garden today.” 

“Why?” Crawly turns to him, eyebrows raised.

“I figured we – I – best follow them. The humans. Lord knows they will need protection out there in the world.” 

“Hmm. Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” 

“I suppose I should go. The urges . . . I was having seemed to have passed.” He smooths down his robes. 

“For the moment.” 

“Hmm?”

“That little blue flower? Just a harmless Agapanthus. But yeah, it shouldn’t have driven you to lust.” 

“Oh.” Aziraphale nibbles his bottom lip. Lust. So that is what he is feeling. It certainly isn’t something an angel should feel. “Have you been tempting me?” 

“Not intentionally. I can’t help it if I look this good.” Crawly stretches his arms over his head, looking more like a cat than a snake. “But yeah, sorry if you were hoping for another explanation.” 

Aziraphale frowns. 

“You don’t need to worry, angel,” Crawly goes on. “I know how to keep a secret. But if you ever want to do this again, just let me know.” 

The demon pulls on his robes, and Aziraphale watches him. His brain is in a bit of a muddle. He really isn’t sure what to think. 

“You going to be okay?” Crawly asks.

“Yes. I . . . I’m fine. You?” 

“Better than ever. Ah. I guess . . . I’ll see you around? If you’re going to be blessing those humans left and right, I probably should do some tempting.” 

Aziraphale nods. “Yes. That makes sense.” 

“I’m sure we’ll run into each other soon. Catch you later, angel.” Crawly gives him a blinding smile, and then goes sauntering off.

Aziraphale swallows deeply. Lust. Lust is something he has felt, yes, he knows the truth of that now. But it’s not the only thing.

**Author's Note:**

> The name Agapanthus is derived from Greek: ἀγάπη (agapē – "love"), ἄνθος (anthos – "flower").


End file.
